The first half of my junior year in high school I was trying to impress a young lady by the name of Sherri Lusk. Somehow or another, in my efforts to woo her, I told her I wrote poetry. She naturally asked me to write one for her. The next morning I was busy in the library plagiarizing a poem when my friend Greg Bock came up and asked what I was doing. I told him. His reaction was complete disgust and he didn't believe I would actually go through with it. I did...and got the response I was hoping for. Unfortunately Greg wouldn't let it go. He rode me all day until I got so sick of listening to him I told him I would tell Sherri. Which I did. Her facial reaction and the look in her eyes told me I had made a HUGE mistake. I had betrayed a basic trust. I went home that night and actually did write my very first poem.
To live each day to the fullest
May be life's greatest test
For how many have forgotten
To stop each day and rest
Pausing for a moment
To thank the One above
For rolling hills and billowy clouds
And a special one we love
To thank him for the little things
We overlook each day
Too busy even to say hello
To the brand new month of May
Life goes by too quickly
For any misty eyes
It's only when you look around
You find where happiness lies
It's in the sweetness that you breathe
Below you and above
Surrounding you wherever
You look with eyes of love
So stop today and think
How foolish to be blue
Many days are brightened
By a simple "I love you"
Going about my business yesterday, I realized I hadn't said hello "to the brand new month of May." Obviously that brought the poem to mind. More-so, it gave me a glimpse down the corridor of time. That poem, written 44 years ago, is the essence of Gift-Gratitude-God. Which, when I think about it, boggles my mind.
PS It worked out as well as could be expected for two teenagers. Sherri forgave me and we dated for awhile.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
May Day
First time I heard this song I was driving home from work on the 60 Freeway channel surfing. I was all over the radio dial until I heard this...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Qx2lMaMsl8
Travelling through the hills of Diamond Bar with a gorgeous sunset as a backdrop, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. No opera fan, it was years and years before I discovered what it was that had transported me to heaven.
From the opera Lakme by Leo Delibes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Qx2lMaMsl8
Travelling through the hills of Diamond Bar with a gorgeous sunset as a backdrop, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. No opera fan, it was years and years before I discovered what it was that had transported me to heaven.
From the opera Lakme by Leo Delibes
Monday, April 29, 2013
This and That
Saturday I met the gentlest woman I have encountered in some time. She is an artist working out of the Placer Arts Center where the Gold Country Writers were holding their Spring Book Affair. I met her during the course of the afternoon and noticed she made a point of stopping by every table and meeting most, if not all, the authors at the event. Later I asked her if she would show me what she did, to which she agreed. We spent more than an hour discussing her paintings, as well as her life. Her vulnerability and courage allowing a stranger such an intimate glimpse into her private life was stunning.
When we parted she wanted me to have something of hers. She gave me a postcard that had been made from one of her original paintings. It was entitled "Listen." If you've been following this blog, you know that on April 12th I posted "Listen..." The serendipitous aspects of the exchange weren't lost on me. Imagine then, this morning, when I stumbled upon some word play I haven't seen before (though you might have). The letters that make up listen, are also the letters that make up silent. To see that they each contain the other amazed me. That the context of the April 12th post and the intricacy between the two words, along with Saturdays implications (of which I've mentioned only one) seemed to beg disclosure.
So the dilemma was, do I share my experience? After much internal debate I decided I would be the "silent, singing silhouette" referenced April 8th in "Sacred Feminine." That the paradox of the April 12th post being highlighted by Life, and the words actual definitions, could exist independently. That it was another example of what I constantly allude to at this web-site; God's subtle and nuanced way of interacting with us. I found it was something I just couldn't remain silent about.
When we parted she wanted me to have something of hers. She gave me a postcard that had been made from one of her original paintings. It was entitled "Listen." If you've been following this blog, you know that on April 12th I posted "Listen..." The serendipitous aspects of the exchange weren't lost on me. Imagine then, this morning, when I stumbled upon some word play I haven't seen before (though you might have). The letters that make up listen, are also the letters that make up silent. To see that they each contain the other amazed me. That the context of the April 12th post and the intricacy between the two words, along with Saturdays implications (of which I've mentioned only one) seemed to beg disclosure.
So the dilemma was, do I share my experience? After much internal debate I decided I would be the "silent, singing silhouette" referenced April 8th in "Sacred Feminine." That the paradox of the April 12th post being highlighted by Life, and the words actual definitions, could exist independently. That it was another example of what I constantly allude to at this web-site; God's subtle and nuanced way of interacting with us. I found it was something I just couldn't remain silent about.
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